


Searching For a Place to Hide

by Erin_Riwen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempted Murder, Happy Ending, M/M, Narcissa Black Malfoy is a Good Parent, No character bashing, Redeemed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erin_Riwen/pseuds/Erin_Riwen
Summary: After the war, there are threats against the Malfoys. Needing them kept safe until the trials are over, the Ministry puts them in protective custody but a murder attempt proves there’s a Ministry leak. Desperate, the Ministry decides a safe house is best, but who to trust to keep it secret and keep them safe? Narcissa calls in a life debt, the Minster calls in a favour and Harry Potter wonders why his life continues to hate him.Along the way, the Malfoys learn how to be a family again, Harry learns that some things are not how he thought and maybe never were, and the touch-starved boys discover that they may be each other's forever answer.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 221
Collections: HD Wireless 2020





	1. Hiding Places

**Author's Note:**

> First, thanks and so much love to J for being my bestest friend in the world. Thanks for understanding and supporting me when I'm neck deep in writing and for always supporting me and cheering me on.
> 
> A huge thank you to T for being such an amazing friend and literally the best alpha/beta on the planet. You just get me and can direct me like no one else. I hope we're friends forever.
> 
> Thanks to my lovely E for the brit pick and once-through despite a crazy busy schedule. Thanks for your love and support and always coming through for me.
> 
> To E, T and B, You're in my heart as always and are such a huge part of my journey. I hope you enjoy this and know how very special you are to me.
> 
> Thank you so much to the mods for hosting this fest. 
> 
> This was a self-prompt based on the song. I could have written 100k on this topic if I'd had more time and energy. Hopefully this works.
> 
> Song prompt: Love Will Keep Us Alive - The Eagles

When the Floo roared to life in the middle of his toast and tea, Harry knew that it wasn’t likely to be good news. He sighed and stood to fill the kettle when he saw both Ron and Hermione come through the kitchen door.

“Hey mate,” Ron said cheerfully as he took a seat at the table and grabbed a chocolate biscuit. 

Hermione came to stand beside Harry, bussing his cheek with a kiss as she took over the tea making. “Go on,” she said softly, “finish your breakfast.”

Her tone said ‘you’re gonna need it’, so Harry nodded and returned to his chair. He finished his toast and jam quietly, listening to her stirring and Ron’s nattering on about Quidditch. When they were all seated with fresh, hot tea, Harry looked at them both. “May as well just say it, whatever it is. It won’t get any better delaying the conversation.”

They looked at each other and then Ron cleared his throat. “The thing is, mate, well, you know the Malfoys were in protective custody after their trials, waiting for Lucius to finish testifying and remaining Death Eaters to be captured.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, the knot in his stomach tightening as he prepared for bad news. “Wait, _were_ in protective custody?”

Ron nods. “Someone tried to kill them last night. Kingsley figures that the only way anyone got to them was through someone with access and information so he’s a bit lost in who to trust.”

“Are they alright? Anyone hurt?” Harry kept his voice calm, but he hadn’t worked hard to help them bargain the exchange of information for their lives to see it go to shit now, and if he spared a tiny thought for the Malfoy he’d been equal parts exasperated with and fascinated with, well, it was no one’s business but his own.

“They’re fine,” Hermione said as she reached over and touched Harry’s hand. Her fingers brushed lightly over the words scarred there. 

“But,” Harry prompted.

“But,” Ron repeated, “Kingsley decided he needed a safe house that he was certain would be unbreachable and heavily protected by someone he could trust completely.”

“No,” Harry said, the disbelief growing in his gut. “No! I did my part. I defeated Voldemort. I died, for fuck’s sake! I’ve done enough.”

“Harry,” Hermione said quietly, her hand gently resting against his cheek and turning his face to look into her kind, brown eyes. “Of course you’ve done enough. Kingsley knows that. This isn’t about him. It’s...well, it’s Narcissa Malfoy. She’s...,” sighing, she continued, “she’s calling in a life debt for this. She’s scared, Harry, they all are. You can say no, you don’t have to agree just because she’s calling it in.”

“A life debt?” Harry asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Yeah, mate,” Ron said, nodding. “It’s old magic, powerful, generally formed when someone saves your life or does something above and beyond, even risking their own safety. If you never agreed that you owe her a life debt, then you can technically refuse. It’s just, people don’t call them in lightly for a reason. I’ve no doubt she thought it was a last resort.

All of the wind went out of Harry in one big swoosh, and his face paled, and his body visibly deflated as he understood the depth of her request. In light of her heroics in the forest, to say no would be an insult to her and a disgrace to himself. His eyes shuttered as a groan escaped his pursed lips.

“She wants them here, in my house, with me protecting them,” he said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to, Harry,” Hermione reminded him.

“Don’t I?” he said quietly. “She saved my life in that forest; it’s literally the only reason I survived to take out Voldemort. That doesn’t even touch the fact that Draco didn’t turn us over at the Manor.” Harry paused, licking his lips. “I never told you but I saw some of what happened when Riddle got to the Manor and found us gone. He...,” Harry’s voice broke, “he tortured him, tortured them.” His eyes squeezed shut as if to try and block out the memory. 

Hermione stood quickly and draped herself around Harry from the back, whispering softly in his ear. “It’ll be OK Harry. Whatever you decide, we’ll help you all we can.”

Harry melted into the embrace, dropping his glasses onto the table and eyes filling with unshed tears. “I just...I just wanted to be left alone, to try and deal with all this shit. Why does my life hate me so much? Dammit!”

For long moments, he just sat there, silent tears tracking down his cheeks, his hands holding tight to Hermione’s arms. Finally, he took in a big, shuddering breath and eased away from her. A warm, wet flannel appeared in front of his face and he gave Ron a watery, appreciative half smile and washed his face as they took their seats again.

Harry took a deep breath and put his glasses back on. “This would be easier if it were just Narcissa and Draco. As shitty as he was to me in school, he was simply a bully and then just fucking scared. I can forgive that. It’s Lucius. The idea that I have to have that arsehole here in my house, to put up with his arrogant bullshit, it’s just …”

“Thing is, mate,” Ron said, taking another biscuit, “this is your house. Your house, your rules. If you agree to this, we make that clear up front. This is for their convenience, not yours, and that comes with responsibility to keep you from chucking them out.”

“He’s right, Harry,” Hermione nodded in agreement. “Kingsley said as much and said that he would consider it a personal favour.”

“Something else to consider that might make this easier: They have probably rarely had to work for anything but they have a lot of knowledge about pureblood stuff, like old Wizarding houses. You could make them help you finally whip this place into shape. It wasn’t a priority before, but now, well, just something to think about.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s an interesting idea. Narcissa was a Black, this house was in her family.” His lips pursed as his mind raced through the option of saying no and what that might mean for the Malfoys and for the Death Eaters that might escape without Lucius’ testimony and information. He closed his eyes, and a whispered “fuck” escaped as he understood clearly what his answer would be.

Harry took another deep, shaky breath and nodded. “Tell Kingsley I’ll do it, but I expect him to bring them here personally. I want him to look me in the face. And,” he said as he looked at both of them, “make sure they all understand that this is on my terms, my rules. Otherwise, they can bugger right off.”

After his friends left, with a promise to be there when the Malfoy’s arrived, Harry scrubbed his face one last time and then made his way to the Floo, his first call to Minerva McGonagall.

~*~

A few minutes past six, Harry stood with Ron and Hermione in the basement kitchen at Grimmauld Place waiting for the arrival of the Malfoys. The air was thick with tension and Harry jumped slightly when the Floo chimed, and he hesitated for just a moment before lifting his wand and opening the connection. Kingsley came through first, followed by Narcissa, then Draco and, finally, Lucius. The Malfoys clutched a trunk in each hand and looked around nervously when they came to a stop. 

“Is it common to greet visitors in the kitchen?” Lucius asked, with a not quite haughty sniff. 

A sharp look from Narcissa, and his mouth closed without another word. Turning back to Harry, Narcissa walked up to him and gave him a slight incline of her head. “Mr Potter, my family and I are grateful that you agreed to take us in. I know this is quite the imposition.”

Harry studied her for a moment, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and the tense purse of her mouth and saw past the elegance and breeding to the pure fear underneath. She was a wife and mother and terrified; Harry understood terrified. He took a deep breath and gave her a tiny half-smile. “I am honoring my life debt to you. My home is your home for as long as it's needed. Let me show you to your rooms and then we’ll have dinner and discuss the household rules.” Before leaving, Harry turned to the others. “Kingsley, if you’ll wait, I’d like to speak with you before you go.” 

“Of course, Harry,” Kingsley said, offering a smile and taking a seat at the kitchen table, joined a moment later by Ron and Hermione. 

“Thanks,” Harry said, then turned and made his way to the second floor, the Malfoys following close behind. “Your rooms are on the right, mine on the left. Mrs Malfoy, you and your husband are first, Draco at the end of the hall. The door in between is the bathroom. Winky has made your rooms up. I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner will be in half an hour.” With that, Harry turned and made his way downstairs.

He heard the low buzz of conversation before he turned the corner into the kitchen, his brows rising when it stopped at his appearance. “Don’t let me interrupt,” he said as he took a seat at the table and accepted the cup of tea that Hermione slid in front of him. Just then Winky appeared next to him, bowing low. 

“Mr Harry Potter, sir, Winky is being ready to make dinner now.”

“That’s fine, Winky, thank you.” With another bow, she set about her tasks.

“Harry,” Kingsley said, his large hands folded on the scarred table. “I want you to know how much I appreciate your help with this. I know this isn’t ideal.”

Harry snorted. “That’s an understatement, Kingsley. I paid my dues, did my duty and then some! We're not making this a recurring theme here, is that clear?” Harry looked him in the eye and waited. 

Kingsley had the good grace to look sheepish but nodded solidly. “You have my word, Harry.”

“Good,” Harry said quietly, then ploughed forward. “Any idea who the leak is?”

“No,” Kingsley replied, his characteristically booming voice quiet, “but we will find them. In the meantime, don’t let anyone but us in and question us to be sure it’s not polyjuice.”

“No need for Ron and Hermione. I set the charms and spells myself with Professor Flitwick’s help and they are tuned to their DNA and polyjuice doesn’t change that. I can key you in as well.”

“Yes, please, if you are OK with that.”

“Of course,” Harry said, standing and Harry performed the ritual to allow Kingsley access. 

The Minister shook Harry’s hand and clamped his large hand on Harry’s shoulder before moving toward the Floo. “Alright, I need to get back, the Ministry doesn’t run itself. Harry, let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Harry said, and with a wave and a whoosh, Kingsley was gone.

After a subdued dinner, the group retired to the sitting room and moments later, Winky brought tea and biscuits. The Malfoys were all seated together on the large sofa facing the fire, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were scattered about in armchairs with Harry seated the closest. They sat sipping tea for several long minutes before Hermione cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Harry.

Just then Narcissa Malfoy said quietly: "Perhaps, Mr Potter, it would be a good idea to discuss your expectations while we are living here. This is your home, we will do our best to abide by your wishes.”

Both Lucius and Draco shifted stiffly, but neither looked directly at Harry. In fact, Draco hadn’t looked at him once since they arrived which he found a little strange. He looked at the boy who had been the centre of so much of his attention in school and saw none of the proud, haughty child he’d been. It was disconcerting. Harry turned his attention back to Narcissa and nodded. “I agree,” he said quietly. Slapping his hands lightly on his denim covered knees, he licked his lips and began. “Right, so. I don’t like a lot of rules, but I do think a few will make this all go better. First, you are free to use any rooms in the house except for the left side of the second floor. That’s my bedroom and study and is strictly off limits. I will consider your bedrooms off limits to me as well. Everyone needs a private space. I’ll show you around the house tomorrow.” 

Harry reclaimed his tea, cradling his favourite mug in both hands to keep them occupied. After taking a sip, he continued. “As for the rest, well, Winky is a Hogwarts house-elf who will be taking care of us. I don’t actually have a house-elf anymore, I just care for myself. Kreacher is far too old and has retired to Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonegall was kind enough to loan Winky to me for as long as we are in this situation. She will cook and clean, do laundry and such. To be clear,” Harry said, looking directly at Lucius now, his voice stern, “she is to be treated with respect and kindness. You will ask for what you need, not order her about. If there is a problem, bring it to me. You are not to discipline her in any way. Understood?” 

Draco looked at his hands as he had through this entire conversation, and Narcissa looked calm and nodded once in agreement, but it was Lucius who held Harry’s gaze for a long moment, jaw tight before giving one quick nod. Harry let out the breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, and his face and voice relaxed slightly. “If you will make a list of food preferences or any other items you need, Winky will take care of them when she does the shopping.”

“That is very kind of you, Mr Potter. I will have a list for you tomorrow,” Narcissa said quietly. “Mr Potter,” Narcissa began again, her hands clasping and unclasping as she spoke, “Will mealtimes be on a specific schedule? It is what we are used to and I admit to a fondness for a certain order in the household.” 

Harry felt a growing respect for the Malfoy matriarch, her gaze direct and her words quiet and polite. After thinking for a moment, he responded by calling for Winky and then turning back to her. “What times do you normally take your meals?” 

“We normally take breakfast at nine, dinner at half one and tea at six with tea being our lighter meal as I rest better that way. Would that be acceptable for you?”

Harry thought for a moment, then looked at Winky. “Will that work for you, Winky?”

“Yes, Mr Potter, sir. Winky will be starting that tomorrow morning.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you, Winky.”

“If there is nothing else, Mr Potter, I would very much like an early night. It has been a difficult twenty-four hours,” Narcissa said with a tired smile.

“Of course,” Harry said, standing when she did. Lucius moved to Narcissa’s side, his hand in the small of her back. Draco stood as well, still never looking at Harry. “Mal...Draco. You’re welcome to join us if you like.” Harry may not like him over much but they were in this situation and he would do his best.

Draco paused and finally looked up then, looking as though searching Harry’s face for something before shaking his head. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “but I think I will rest as well. Yesterday was...difficult.”

Harry nodded. “Of course.”

As he approached the door, Draco turned back and looked at Harry intently. “Potter, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry said, watching as Draco nodded once and left the room. Harry stood there, staring at the empty door until Ron’s voice broke through the silence.

“Mate, that was just weird,” Ron said, taking another bite of his chocolate biscuit.

“Yeah,” Harry said, taking his seat and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“I thought it went quite well, all things considered,” Hermione said as she stood and began to refill the teacups. “Mrs Malfoy was polite and reasonable, Lucius kept his mouth shut, and Draco was, well, a surprise, really. Hard to equate that guy with the git we went to school with.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, reaching for another biscuit. “The real test is after we’ve been in the same house for a while. I’ve no idea how the hell I’m going to manage to survive this, really.”

“I have faith in you, Harry,” Hermione said with a smile.

“Me too, but you’ll let me know if you need help with anything, yeah mate?” Ron said with a grin.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks, both of you,” Harry said with a grin. “Just don’t be surprised if I need someone to scream at from time to time. This being-an-adult thing is just hard as fuck.”

“Yes, it is, and of course you can call us anytime. I’m sorry we can’t stay here with you, Harry, but I have two weeks to prepare before I report for orientation,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, and George is struggling with the shop, even with the hired help,” Ron said with a sigh. “I think having me there to work and share the flat is a comfort thing that, to be honest, we both need.”

“It’s OK, guys. Really, you know I understand,” Harry was quick to assure them. He did understand even if deep inside he was still sad about the situation. No one was really past the battle and the loss of Fred. With a sigh, he scrubbed his face again. “Fuck, I’m tired. Honestly, I think I’ll turn in for the night myself.”

Hermione sat her teacup down and opened her arms, and Harry stood and melted into the embrace. He buried his face in her strawberry scented curls and fought the desire to just break down. He managed, just, then Ron was there, his strong arms giving Harry a different kind of anchor borne of long years and numerous challenges. 

“Stay in touch, mate, yeah?” Ron said as they paused to grab Floo powder.

“I will, I promise. You too,” he responded. A nod and they were gone. Winky was watching him when he turned back in her direction and he gave her a small smile. “I’m going to go to bed, Winky. Will you wake me half an hour before breakfast is ready, if I’m not up yet?”

“I will be doing so, Mr Potter,” she said before turning her attention back to her cleaning.

With a heavy sigh, Harry dragged himself upstairs and tossed his glasses on the bedside table. Casting a silencing charm, Harry dropped across the middle of the bed and fell into a hard, deep sleep.

~*~

Breakfast was an uneventful but awkward affair. After some unsuccessful attempts at polite conversation, Harry was glad when it was over and they could all leave the table.

While the Malfoys retired to their rooms to freshen up, Harry decided now was as good a time as any to make sure the pantry was well stocked. He was just going through Narcissa Malfoy's list when he heard the kitchen door open.

"Darling, perhaps Mr Potter can arrange for you to see your friends."

“What friends, mother?” Draco asked quietly. “Pansy and Blaise are on the continent, consoling each other, no doubt. Crabbe is dead, and Goyle is still on house arrest. The rest all buggered off after the war ended.” 

There was a long silence, and Harry realised he'd been holding his breath. He let it out slowly, quietly, not wanting to reveal himself if it could be avoided. He hoped they would just leave and be none the wiser to their certainly unwelcomed interloper. After such an awkward breakfast, he felt himself horribly on edge and off centre in his own home.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Narcissa said quietly. “So very sorry.” The emotion in her voice was palpable. 

He heard Draco sigh. “I'm sorry, mother. It's alright. I still have my family intact and that's worth everything else.”

Just then Harry sneezed and froze, the sound of footsteps drawing close before the pantry door was yanked open and an angry Draco Malfoy was staring him down.

“Eavesdropping, Potter? This is rude, even for you.”

Harry tried to explain. “Draco, no I…” he looked from son to mother to son. “I was just checking the stores and working on menus, see?” He held up Narcissa Malfoy’s list. “I wasn't…”

“Sure,” Draco said, eyes flashing and face red. “Skulking around, listening in on private conversations.”

“Draco,” Narcissa said quietly.

“I wasn't skulking, you self-important arse,” Harry countered, his anger growing. “I was tending to _my_ chores in _my_ house, and you were in _my_ kitchen having your chat.” 

“Why not announce yourself then,” Draco asked, his chin tipped up defiantly.

Harry sighed. “Because I didn't want to upset you. I hoped you'd just go and wouldn't have to know I'd overheard anything. I knew you'd overreact.”

“Overreact???” Draco huffed.

“Draco,” Narcissa said again, her tone slightly stronger. 

“Forget it!” he spat, turning to leave the room. “My apologies, Mother. I need some space, private space, which seems in short supply around here.” He left the room and a moment later, was climbing the stairs.

“Mrs Malfoy, I truly am sorry,” Harry said, still angry but not at her. 

“It's alright, Mr Potter.” Narcissa sighed. “Please, do not be too angry with Draco. He has much on his mind that no child his age should. He's frightened and angry and with good reason. He's been through a war too, despite the differences. His life, I'm afraid, will never be the one he grew up dreaming about.”

“With all due respect, that was his choice. He chose to take the mark, to let Death Eaters into the castle. I know he regrets it now, but still. It was his choice.” Harry's anger was now a living thing.

“Was it?” Narcissa asked, her voice quiet in contrast to Harry’s. “Perhaps you see it that way and perhaps technically, you are correct but there is much you likely do not know. You see, Draco did all of those things for me. My life was Voldemort's bargaining chip, the way he kept my son in line. I did my best to protect him and to control my husband. It is difficult when surrounded by pure evil like that lunatic and my equally insane sister. Did you know, in fact, that I thought I had bargained to keep Draco from taking the mark? Then, one night while I was sleeping, he called Draco in and gave him a choice, the mark for my life. I was horrified. Draco was resigned. He knew that mark meant the end to everything, his hopes, his plans, his career, his entire future. After that, he just gave up, feeling that nothing was left to him but protecting me. That's still where he is, protecting me and feeling hopeless about everything else. I know it's hard for you to understand, Mr Potter, as the Saviour and not the Death Eater, but that is his reality.” She paused, then added. “In his place, what would you have done to save your mother, even if only from her own short sightedness? Perhaps consider that before you judge him too harshly.” She took a deep breath. “If you'll excuse me, I need to check on my son.”

She turned to leave but Harry spoke up. “Mrs Malfoy?”

She paused, her hand on the doorframe.

“Thank you for explaining. I will... I will give that some thought.”

She inclined her head slightly and made her way upstairs. 

Harry sat at the kitchen table, his heart pounding and his mind whirling. He revisited what he’d heard in the pantry and what Narcissa Malfoy had confided in their conversation and found a new perspective and a jolt of sympathy for his former nemesis. He was ashamed that he’d never even considered that there might be an alternative truth, reasons for Draco’s behaviour that would explain, if not excuse, his decisions. Harry exhaled heavily as he contemplated himself in Draco’s place. What would he have done to save his mother? He knew, with a wry smile, that he’d have done anything to save her, to still have her with him, even sacrificing his own future. It was a strange feeling, realising that he and Draco had that in common. His thoughts turned to his own life, to his best friends, his found family and how lucky he was to have so many people in his life and the freedom to do whatever he wanted, be whatever he wanted to be. 

Narcissa’s words haunted him, an unexpected glimpse into all that Draco lost that day, and his heart broke a little, for Draco and the choice that was never really a choice, for the future Draco’d lost, and for all of those that he couldn’t save. A lump rose in his throat and he fought down sadness and anger and frustration. Maybe it was time to start moving forward, beginning perhaps with Draco.

~*~

Lunch that day was a quiet affair, but a bit less tense than the previous meals, so Harry thought he’d plunge forward with Hermione’s suggestion. He took a long drink and cleared his throat.

“I’d like to talk to you all about the house.”

“What about it, Mr Potter?” Narcissa asked. Lucius said nothing, and Draco, well, Draco hadn’t spoken to him since the incident this morning.

“Well, I inherited it from Sirius but the thing is, I don’t know much about owning a house and I don’t know anything about magical houses. I was thinking, hoping that maybe since we’re stuck here, you all might be willing to help me with it. It’s gloomy and well, not very homey and I’d really like to change that.”

“I would love to help you with the house, Mr Potter,” Narcissa said, her enthusiasm showing on her face, “and I’m certain that Lucius and Draco would be glad to as well.” She looked first at her husband and then her son.

“Thrilled,” Lucius said with a scowl.

“Draco?”

“Of course, Mother. It would be my pleasure,” Draco said, his voice flat and his eyes never lifting to look at Harry.

Harry sighed inwardly, but he pasted on a smile and gave Narcissa a nod. “The second floor hasn’t really been touched at all, and the third floor is where I had Kreacher put all of the odd things that I moved from the two bottom floors. I thought perhaps that you and your husband could go through that area both for any dark objects that need to be removed and also anything you might want. I know this house was in your family for generations. You may have any heirlooms that you want from here.”

“That is very generous of you, Mr Potter,” Narcissa said with a genuine smile.

“You’re welcome. Feel free to start whenever you like. Let me know if you need anything.”

Harry relaxed a touch. He hadn’t missed that Draco actually looked at him and he counted it as a win.

Gathering his courage, Harry spoke to Draco as he rose to leave after lunch. “Draco?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes?” Draco replied, his voice still a bit frosty.

“Erm,” Harry said as his hand rubbed over the nape of his neck as it tended to do when he was nervous. “I was, um, thinking since we are going to start on the house renovations, that maybe you’d be willing to help me with a project in the entryway.” He watched as various emotions seemed to play over Draco’s features as he contemplated his answer.

Draco shrugged. “I suppose that’s as good a place to start as any. What project in particular did you have in mind?”

“The house-elf heads,” Harry said as he walked past Draco and toward the stairs. Once in the entry, he stopped in front of the gruesome display and fought down a flush of bile. “This, this just…” Harry clamped his lips down and tore his eyes from the heads to look at Draco before continuing. “They don’t just come down, I tried. I also tried simple spells but then I stopped because I wasn’t sure if there might be some sort of curse attached.” 

Draco nodded, looking over the heads thoughtfully. He pulled his wand and tried several spells that Harry didn’t recognise. Finally, he put his wand away and Harry waited, trying to be patient.

“You were wise to wait,” Draco said quietly. “There’s a version of the Expulso curse on them that would have caused a nasty explosion if you’d tried to remove them by force.” He looked from one end of the line of heads to the other. “I can remove it. Each head is protected so this might take a while.”

“Yes, please,” Harry said, taking a deep breath and feeling thankful that he had managed to avoid that particular bit of trouble.

Draco rolled up his shirt sleeves and pointed his wand at the first head and made a complicated wand movement. There was a soft pop, and a puff of smoke, and Draco redid the diagnostics. Seemingly confident now, he moved forward and removed the first head, handing it to Harry. 

“One down, eleven to go,” Draco said dryly.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he sat the head in the corner. “I’ll be very glad to have these down. Thank you, Draco.”

Draco gave him a tiny half smile and a brief nod, and Harry felt encouraged enough to try chatting while they worked.

"He saved my life, you know?" Harry said quietly

"Who did?"

"Dobby. He actually died saving me..." Harry’s voice trailed off and a lump formed in his throat.

“I, I didn’t know,” Draco said as he took down head number two and handed it to Harry. “I only knew that you freed him from my father’s service, and that he helped you escape, of course. I’m truly sorry that he died. I quite liked him. He helped raise me.”

Harry’s brows rose as that concept sunk in. “He did?”

“Yes,” Draco said, removing the next head. “He was in charge of my care until I was eleven. Then my father decided that I was too old to have a dedicated house-elf and, well, lots of things changed after that.” Draco’s voice sounded weary and sad and it hurt Harry’s heart.

“I’m sorry that happened,” Harry said. “He was a good elf.”

“He was.”

The pair fell quiet then, working in tandem until all twelve heads were down and in a pile in the corner.

“Now what?” Harry mused, looking down at the stack. “I don’t want them. Do you think your mum might?”

“I sincerely doubt it, but we can ask.” Draco sleeved his wand and looked at his now filthy hands. “I think I’d like to get cleaned up. We can ask her at dinner.”

“Of course,” Harry agreed and watched Draco move up the stairs. “Draco?”

“Yes?” he said, pausing on the steps.

“Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome...Harry.”

~*~

Harry sat, like most nights since the Malfoys had moved in, buried in his big overstuffed chair by the fire. He wasn’t sure why tonight felt different, only that it did. He watched the flames lick the wood, scarring the exterior before slowly infiltrating and systematically destroying the once sturdy wood until it was nothing but ash. Harry wondered if there was a lesson there, for him, about the outcome of all of this shit in his head that kept him from sleeping well and had him on edge in general. Hermione’s gentle suggestion earlier that he consider a mind healer had sent him into a rage, which had sent his strong-willed best friend into a frustrated rage of her own, one which had started off with her reminding him that they loved him and wanted to help, and gone straight through to what a selfish arse he was being about this whole thing, and after that she’d flounced off through the Floo in trademark Granger fashion. At the time, he’d felt a bit justified but now, in the calm of the evening, he just felt hollow and broken. Still angry because, fuck, that feeling rarely left anymore, but mostly just sad and empty. 

A soft sound caught his attention and without moving a muscle, he started listening in on the conversation going on between the three people on the sofa. The Malfoys, the family that was still together, that was slowly healing. He’d had a front row seat to it all, to the small glances and touches, the small kindnesses between Lucius and Narcissa that were finally emerging here in this safe place Harry had created for them. He saw, grudgingly, the couple they had been, in love and caring. 

And Draco. 

He’d seen Draco slowly reconnect to the father he’d once adored and might again. Saw Lucius repentant and apologetic towards his only son and even towards Harry himself. Harry’s lips thinned slightly when he remembered his less than warm reception of it, but Lucius had remained calm and kind in the face of Harry’s cold demeanour, which just made Harry angrier. Their family was intact and when this was over, the Malfoys would go home together. Draco would have both of his parents and his fortune and his palatial house, and Harry wouldn’t begrudge him that at all. They had begun a tentative friendship. He was happy for his friend but he wondered, not for the first time even today, why his life hated him so much. His parents were dead, hell, all his relatives were dead (except for the Dursleys, but he didn’t want to dwell on that), and all he had was money, this old house and his godson. Teddy was one of the few things that made him smile these days. He sighed softly and fought the tears that threatened to break free.

“Mr Potter,” a kind voice said above his right shoulder.

Harry took in a quiet, shuddering breath and swallowed hard before responding. “Yes, Mrs Malfoy?”

“I wonder if I might join you for a few moments. I would like to speak with you if you don’t mind.”

Harry cringed inwardly, knowing he was in no frame of mind to handle anything emotional but he also didn’t want to undo the progress they’d all made. Reluctantly, he nodded and went to get up to get her a chair when one popped into place next to his right arm. He looked over, watching her sit while behind her, her husband and son left the room without a sound.

There was a long silence which grew more uncomfortable the longer it went on. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and ploughed forward. The sooner this started, whatever it was, the sooner it ended, and he could go back to his brooding. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You, Mr Potter,” Narcissa said quietly. “I want to talk about you, if you will.”

“And if I say no?” Harry said gruffly. After the blowup with Hermione earlier, he was too heartsore to deal with more pushing.

“Then I will leave you alone, but,” and Narcissa hesitated here, “I don’t really think you want to be alone with your thoughts just now, do you?”

Harry paused, trying to determine the answer to her question but his unsteady emotional state seemed to make the decision for him. “No, not really.”

“Mr Potter–”

Harry held up his hand, and Narcissa paused.

“If we are going to have what I suspect is a deeply personal conversation, it would go better if you called me _Harry_. _Mr Potter_ , well, doesn’t really feel like me, despite people using it all the damn time. Oh sorry,” Harry added quickly.

“For what? For cursing?” Narcissa asked kindly. “I’d think – given everything – that I can forgive a few odd words. I’ve learned to get over a lot of my previous... prejudices about people’s behaviours and to remember that only they know what they’ve gone through. And of course, I will call you _Harry_ if you prefer. I invite you to call me _Cissy_. It’s what my close friends and family call me. That includes you now, Harry, at least I hope it does. Saving each other gives us a rather unique bond, does it not?”

Harry relaxed just a touch and nodded. “It does,” he agreed. “I’ll try, with Cissy, though it might take me some time to get used to. I wasn’t taught a lot of manners, but respect for elders was, well, rather heavily enforced.”

“Whatever makes you most comfortable, Harry.”

“So, you said you wanted to talk about me. What do you want to know?” He had been down this road before and didn’t particularly want to revisit it.

“You’re angry and I don’t blame you. This war was placed on the shoulders of children who never should have borne it, least of all, you. We failed all of you, all but a few adults and thankfully, you had those. The Weasleys, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape.” Narcissa sighed. “I should have done more. Anyway,” She continued, “I want to help now. I know it’s late and well, I’m not your mother. I know that.”

“No, you aren’t,” Harry said bitterly. “My mother and father died at the hands of the maniac who you two supported, and there’s no bringing them back. I’m glad you all survived, and I appreciate Lucius testifying to put the Death Eaters away, but when this is over, you all will go home together as a family and I’ll…” Harry’s voice broke and he clamped his lips together, determined not to break down in front of the Malfoy matriarch.

“You’ll still be parentless, yes, I know,” Narcissa said quietly. “I can’t express to you how sorry I am, Harry, that you have lost so much. I’m sorry about Sirius too. He’s another regret I have. I’m glad that you got to know him, however short the time.”

“I’ve no doubt you have regrets,” Harry said, his anger almost a living thing, “given that you all abandoned him, let him go to prison unfairly and then he was killed by your batshit crazy sister. He was your family, for fucks sake,” his voice rose with each word until he spat out the last bit loudly as he stood and looked her in the face. “Draco was trying to save you, his mother. I get that, I can forgive that,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “What’s your excuse, Lucius’ excuse? You are adults. All of you, adults waging a war on the backs of children, and for what? Fucking prejudices? Superiority, blood purity, like you’re better? Well, we might have been children and we might be what you all considered lesser, but you’d be wrong. We defeated pure evil while your lot followed it, believed in it. How dare you? How dare any of you declare that you have an ounce of superiority over anyone?” Harry’s fists were clenched at his sides and his entire body trembled. Tears spilled from his eyes unchecked as though his heart couldn’t hold any more.

“You’re right, Harry, all of it,” she replied, her own voice trembling as she stood to face him, though her own countenance had much more an air of surrender than defiance. “We failed all of you. I have no excuse for Lucius, except that he was chasing ideals he was raised with, and he knows all too well now what he’s done. As for me, I was also raised with certain ideals that I now regret deeply. Most of all, Harry, I was trying to save my family. When all the ideals were stripped away, that was my motivation. It was watching my son pay for our decisions.”

Harry’s breaths came in short hiccups and he slowly unfurled his fists and wrapped his arms around his own body in a stance reminiscent of the many times in his life that he’d had only himself to find comfort in. He was tired, tired of being angry, tired of fighting, tired of crying, just so fucking tired. His eyes squeezed tight as he fought the sobs that threatened to break through.

“You may not believe me and I wouldn’t blame you,” Narcissa continued, “but that night, in the forest, I wasn’t just trying to save my son, I was trying to save Lily’s son too. We weren’t friends but I knew her and James well enough to know they’d have done the same for my son, for any child.” As she spoke, she walked slowly toward where Harry stood sobbing, approaching as though he were a skittish animal. “I’m so so sorry you lost them, darling, so very sorry.” When she reached him, she stood close but not touching, her own tears falling unchecked. “I know your Molly has stepped in as a substitute mother admirably but, Harry, I’m the one who’s here, now, and I’m also a mother. I can’t change the past but I can try and be a better mother to Draco and well, I’d like to help you too if you’ll let me.” Narcissa opened her arms and waited.

Once the sobs began, it was like a floodgate had opened up and trying to stop it was like trying to hold smoke. Harry’s pain and anguish poured out and the harder he tried to stop it, the worse it pushed until he could barely breathe. He’d lost his glasses at some point, but he couldn’t be arsed to care. He couldn’t see anyway through all the tears and he felt himself shake and his knees went weak as he bent forward, screaming. He hardly noticed the strong arms that held him, that sank to the floor with him until he realised that he was sitting on the floor, being held in a mother’s arms. 

When his anger was spent, he collapsed into the embrace and cried for the loss of his mum and dad, for the long nights he’d spent unloved, hungry, hurting, for the life he should have had. He mourned the death of his godfather and the second chance they’d lost. He thought of the destruction of innocence, of his horrible childhood, and as his sobs gave way to exhaustion and spent emotions, he registered the warmth of the embrace, of the scent of jasmine, of the strength of the woman who held him in sharp contrast to the softness of her voice telling him that it was alright, whatever he was feeling, it was allowed and he was going to be alright. The last thing to register was that it was the quietly dignified Narcissa Malfoy who was sitting on the floor holding him as though it was the most normal thing in the world for her to do. He took her offered handkerchief and worked on his face as his breathing slowly returned to something close to normal. 

Harry sighed and took in several deep, cleansing breaths as he attempted to pull himself together.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly. 

“I will be,” Harry replied, his voice hoarse from screaming and his throat raw. “I’ve never lost control like that, I…” He had no idea how to even finish that sentence so he didn’t.

“Pain and emotion that deep and intense can tear you apart if they’re never expressed,” Narcissa said quietly. “I know this from experience. Both you and Draco do that, hide things away and stuff them down until they eat at you from the inside or finally burst out, and it’s not healthy.”

“Hermione’s told me the same thing before,” Harry admitted. “She always worries that I’ll end up sick over it. I’m starting to realise how much it was affecting me.” With that, he sat back, looking around to try and find his glasses. A moment later, they were in his hand, and he smiled a little when he could finally see properly. Harry got to his feet, offered Narcissa Malfoy his hand and helped her up. Still holding her hand, he smiled. “Thank you, Mrs… um, Cissy.”

Narcissa returned the smile and squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome, Harry. Anytime, truly.”

Later that night, Harry wrote a note to Hermione and apologised for their fight before falling into an exhausted, but restful sleep.


	2. The World is Changing

A week and countless cobwebs, doxy nests and other pest infestations later, Harry had apparently had enough.

“Come with me,” Harry whispered and Draco nodded, matching Harry’s pace as they crept up the stairs to the third floor. There by the window stood two brooms, and Harry turned and grinned at Draco in the dusk light. Harry leaned close, his breath ghosting over Draco’s skin as he spoke again. “Take a broom and follow me to the roof.” Without another word, Harry mounted the broom and, leaning forward over it, sailed out of the window and out of sight. Draco stood rooted to the spot for a moment before following him out the window.

Draco flew in an elegant swoop up to the roof and was startled by the well appointed roof garden that suddenly came into view. An abundance of plants and ornamental trees created a beautiful green oasis in the middle of London. Strings of fairy lights lined the edges of the space and sparkled in the trees. A small shed and a dining set completed the cosy retreat. 

“Wow,” Draco said when he finally landed and looked around. “This is amazing. I never expected anything like this. Did you do the spellwork?”

“Yeah,” Harry said as he took the brooms and put them in the small shed. “I was going crazy after the war. No matter where I went, the press would follow. _Harry Potter goes to the market_ , _Harry Potter spends the day at the seaside_ , _Harry Potter buys fish and chips_. It drove me spare, so I just stayed home and immediately missed being outside, so I started working on this. Flitwick helped me set the charms to disillusion it and to block out the lights so I could see the stars, the rest was easy.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Draco said, turning all the way around to take it all in. There was a strange thing that he didn’t recognise next to a small table and chair set. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing.

“That’s a muggle barbecue,” Harry said, walking over and lifting the lid. Draco followed and looked at the strange contraption over Harry’s shoulder. “You light a fire in it and cook food. I’ll make you something soon, if you like.”

Draco couldn’t quite imagine how this worked but he was very curious and nodded in response, not trusting his voice much at the moment. The friendliness between them was still new and strange.

“Come on, this is the best seat.” Harry made his way to a lounger in the centre of the garden and turned, clearly waiting for Draco. His mouth curved into a soft smile, and Draco’s heart pounded just a bit harder. Giving himself a mental shake, Draco made his way over and following Harry’s lead, laid down. The lounger wasn’t exactly built for two grown men, and Draco could feel the warmth of Harry’s arm next to his own, close enough to almost touch, and he could smell the lemons from his shampoo as they shared the small space. Feeling Harry’s gaze on him, Draco turned his head and looked into those intense green eyes. Time seemed to stand still, his heart beating frantically, captured in that gaze.

Finally, Harry blinked and cleared his throat, breaking the moment. He turned his face back toward the sky and pointed while Draco watched him a moment longer as Harry waved his hand and all of the lanterns went out.

Draco gasped at the sudden plunge into near darkness, but soon the sky was filled with twinkling stars. “Merlin, this is gorgeous,” he said quietly and they lay there in silence for several long moments, just enjoying the beauty of the night sky. 

“This is where I come when life is too much for me, it recentres me and helps me carry on,” Harry explained. “I love it here.”

“I can see why,” Draco said. “We have stars like this at home but, well, it’s been a while since there’s been enough peace to enjoy it.” He sighed, caught up in the melancholy of all that he’d lost. “Sorry, I guess I just miss home, my home from before, my life from before.”

“I can imagine,” Harry said, his voice kind. “None of us came out of this mess unscathed. I’m truly sorry about your home. When this is over, you can go back and reclaim it, if you want.”

“Perhaps,” Draco murmured, “Perhaps.”

Harry grew quiet, and Draco waited, the silence making him slightly nervous. “Is this where you and your friends disappear to when they come to vis– Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

Harry kept his eyes on the stars. “No, we go to my study. They, well, I’ve never actually told them about this place. Never told anyone, really.” The ensuing silence hung heavy in the air.

“But you are sharing it with me,” Draco said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.” 

“Why? Not that I’m complaining, mind,” Draco added quickly.

“It felt right.” Harry paused for a moment, then continued. “This is my quiet place, a place to reset and try to heal. Ron and Hermione are wonderful, but they are moving on, starting their post war lives, Hermione in school, and Ron helping George at the shop and, well, in dealing with their losses as a family. I don’t want to hold them back, you know? Because if they knew how much I’ve struggled, if I shared it with them, they’d figure out I’m more of a mess than I’ve let on, and they’d put things on hold to try to help me and they need the chance to live their own lives. I’ve been, well, stuck. Held back by my own struggles and by a public that won’t let me just live. They all want something from me and it’s just too much.”

The sadness in Harry’s voice tugged at Draco and he swallowed then sighed, “I’m afraid that might be a hard thing to break. Part of them feel they owe you, which they do, and part of them feel you owe it to them to always be there, always be their hero. Most of them mean well, but I can see how it would be too much.”

“I’m really not a hero,” Harry countered, “I was just a kid with no choice. I couldn’t not do my part if for no other reason than because I didn’t want to live in the world Riddle had planned, but Merlin, I’m no hero. I was just a scared kid, still am, if I’m honest.”

“But that is a hero, Harry. A hero is someone who does the right thing as best they can, in spite of being scared, in spite of being unsure, in spite of being uncomfortable. You were our hero, that day you took us in to protect us.” Draco said quietly, his regret rising like a physical lump in his throat. “I know that wasn’t easy for you, especially with my father or with me, really. I was so horrible to you. I’m not sure I’ve ever properly said thank you. I have my family back, alive and much wiser, so thank you.”

“You’re welcome. It’s OK, you know” Harry assured him. “I’m pretty sure I’ve gained as much as you have going through this time here together. Nothing can undo the things that have happened, but it wasn’t just you. We were pretty horrible to each other. I rather think this has given us a chance to start over.” 

“I’m glad,” Draco said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the night sky. He licked his lips, his heart pounding as he continued. “I think I always just wanted your attention if I’m honest.”

“Seriously? Even if it was horrible attention?”

“Yeah, I mean...” Draco admitted with a sigh, “yeah.”

The ensuing silence felt heavy but not as uncomfortable as before, not after Harry’s confession. Draco wasn’t sure exactly what he thought about tonight’s revelations but there was no denying that things between them were shifting and if he were honest with himself, which he tried to be most of the time, he hoped it would lead them forward at least as friends. Merlin knew Draco could use a good friend. 

“Why? I mean, why me?” Harry asked. “Was it just the whole ‘I’m a hero even though I’ve no clue why or any memory of it’?”

“Partly, if I’m honest,” Draco admitted, looking over at his companion. “I mean, I grew up with the books and posters and toys of you. I was sent to Hogwarts directed to make friends with the great Harry Potter. Thing was, you weren’t what my parents or I expected.”

“Wait, there were toys and things?” Harry looked slightly horrified, his voice squeaky. “Really?”

Draco laughed. “Yes, really. I still have some of mine. When we get out of this mess, I’ll show you.”

“But no one knew what I looked like,” Harry said, his brows drawn into a frown. “You had toys of me and yet you didn’t recognise me in Madame Malkins.”

“You didn’t look like the toys or the posters. You looked like a street urchin, Harry. No one knew...no one knew that you weren’t a spoiled, well-dressed young wizard. That’s what I was expecting.”

“Hmm,” Harry said. “Merlin, that’s really disturbing and more than a little embarrassing,” he said, his lips held tightly as though fighting the urge to laugh. When an actual giggle pushed past his lips, Draco joined in and they laughed until they were breathless.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve laughed since we got here,” Draco said through the last of his giggles.

“Feels good,” Harry admitted. “M’sorry I was such a miserable bugger at first.”

“Me too.”

“I think I owe your mum my thanks,” Harry said. “She is pretty amazing. I honestly didn’t even realise just how messed up I was until she helped me open up. I– I was so stunned when she came and started to talk to me but I’m really grateful.” Harry's voice broke a little and as he took a shuddering breath, Draco slipped his hand into Harry's and held it tight, resolutely looking at the stars. After a brief moment, Harry continued as if nothing had happened. “It’s, it’s been hard growing up without parents. Before, I was so busy just surviving to think too much about it but when things got quiet, well…” He fell silent.

“I can’t imagine growing up without my mum,” Draco admitted, his heart breaking a little for the man who’d never known his own mother at all. “I’m really sorry, Harry. That bastard took so much from us all. I know I’m luckier than most.”

“Yeah, you are,” Harry said quietly.

“I know it wouldn’t ever replace your mum or even Mrs Weasley, but my mum seems to have grown quite fond of you,” Draco said, turning to look at Harry. “I’m pretty sure she’d be happy to be there for you, should you want that.”

Harry looked over, their eyes locking for a moment before he nodded. “Thanks.”

They both turned back toward the stars, and Draco didn’t even try to fight the smile on his face, still holding Harry’s hand. Merlin.

~*~

A few hours later, they were finally driven back inside by the cool night air, chilly despite it being early summer. As they put their brooms away, Harry suggested hot chocolate and Draco readily agreed. They moved carefully down the stairs, trying not to disturb the elder Malfoys and made their way into the kitchen.

“Do you know how to make hot chocolate?” Harry asked as he moved toward the kitchen cupboards.

“I’m afraid the most I know how to do is call for a house-elf,” Draco admitted. “Merlin, that sounds shallow.”

“It’s how you were raised,” Harry said kindly. “I get that.” As Harry was reaching for the handle, a pop sounded loud enough to make Draco jump, and Winky appeared.

“Are you being hungry?” she asked.

“Not so much hungry as cold,” Harry explained. “We were just going to have some hot chocolate.”

“You go, warm up in the sitting room by the fire. Winky will be making the chocolate for you.”

“Thanks, Winky,” Harry said with a grin. 

“Yes, thank you,” Draco added.

They moved upstairs and a quick wand motion had a roaring fire going. They sat side by side on the comfortable overstuffed sofa, and Draco sighed contentedly as the warmth spread over him. Moments later, Winky delivered lovely mugs of hot chocolate with marshmallows and left a tray with biscuits and small tea cakes for them to share.

“The roof garden is really lovely, though perhaps some tweaking to the weather charms would not go amiss,” Draco offered helpfully.

“Yeah, I agree. It’s not my strong suit. Are you good at them?”

Draco smiled. “I am fairly proficient. I’d be willing to see what I could do.”

“Next time, then.”

“Next time,” Draco grinned and bit into a tea cake.


	3. Now I've Found You

It was mid morning two weeks later when the wards alerted Harry that someone was coming through the kitchen Floo.

"We're upstairs," Harry called out and looked at Draco before putting down the paintbrush and walking towards the stairs. When he saw Kingsley and Head Auror Robards followed by Ron and Hermione, he swallowed hard. This was something serious. "Kingsley?"

“Harry,” Kingsley’s voice carried through the empty hall, “would you get the Malfoys? There’s been a development.”

Harry turned to Draco who nodded once and made his way upstairs. 

“Let’s go into the sitting room,” Harry directed and he called for Winky while Ron led the group in. 

“You is needing Winky, Mr Harry Potter, sir?”

“Yes, Winky, we have guests. Would you provide full tea for eight, please?

“Of course, Mr Harry Potter, sir,” and she was gone. 

Harry made his way into the room, surprised to see a second sofa had been conjured where Kingsley and Robards now sat. A moment later the Malfoys entered and took the remaining sofa, their faces full of confusion and a degree of fear. Winky placed the tea, small pastries and sandwiches on the table and took her leave.

“Kingsley,” Harry said, taking his usual chair, “what is the development?”

The Minister cleared his throat and gave the Malfoys a slight smile. “They caught the person who made the attempt on your lives.”

The relief was palpable in the room, a collective sigh and the release of tension could be felt. Robards spoke then. 

“It was Robert Michaels, he was assistant to the lead Auror assigned to the case which gave him access to a lot of information. He faked authorisations to get the rest. It was an act of revenge.”

“But why?” Narcissa asked. “Why does this man hate us so much?”

Robards sighed. “Michaels was raised by his aunt when his parents were killed. His aunt,” Robards hesitated and every eye in the room was on Robards when he continued, “his aunt was Charity Burbage.”

“Oh God!” Draco’s voice broke and his hand flew up to cover his mouth. 

Harry was up in a flash, kneeling by Draco, his hand on a stiff shoulder. “Draco? Are you alright?” Horror-filled eyes looked at Harry and quickly looked away as Narcissa’s arm went around her son’s shoulders. Harry looked at her, his confusion obviously clear on his face.

“Draco, do you wish to go to your room?” Narcissa asked him quietly. “It is not necessary for you to stay for this.”

Draco didn’t speak, just shook his head jerkily and kept his eyes trained on his hands that were now restlessly wringing in his lap. 

Harry had no idea what had happened to cause Draco to have such a reaction, but it tore at his heart and without stopping to really think about it, he sat down on the floor in front of Draco and wrapped his larger hands around Draco’s slender, trembling ones. His thumbs brushed gently over Draco’s knuckles. He noticed Ron's eyes widening at that, and Hermione tilted her head in a question, but he looked them both in the eyes and gave a little nod to let them know that he knew what he was doing. Ron nodded back and Hermione smiled. “Please continue, Head Auror.” As he spoke, he felt Draco’s fingers tighten around his.

Robards cleared his throat. “Yes, well, because of his position, he knew about how she really died as soon as that information was divulged, and he decided revenge was the answer. He coldly planned your deaths even though he knew you did not kill her. We found notes in his satchel that outlined plans to murder any further Death Eaters we managed to find before they could be sentenced. By all appearances, he was acting alone.”

Harry was listening, but never took his eyes off Draco. He felt the trembling increase, saw the colour drain from the pale face and knew the minute Draco was in trouble. He jumped up, pulling Draco to his feet and down the hall into the loo just in time for Draco to throw up. Closing the door behind them, Harry grabbed a wet flannel and a glass of water, then knelt by his friend, his hand spread across the middle of his back. When Draco finally stopped heaving, Harry flushed and used the flannel to gently wash Draco’s face, then handed him the glass of water. 

“Rinse and spit,” he said quietly and Draco did, his hand still trembling. Taking the empty glass, Harry set it aside and rinsed the flannel before returning to sit on the floor. He handed the flannel to Draco and leaned against the door, waiting. “You want to talk about it?” Harry asked.

“Not really,” Draco said, his voice raw as he scooted back until he sat beside Harry and buried his face in the cool flannel. Draco sighed. “He fed her to that fucking snake in front of us, on our dining room table,” he murmured through the flannel. “Oh God!” he said again and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and held him close, fighting to keep his own stomach under control. Fucking hell. They sat there together, not speaking for a while, until there was a tentative knock at the door and Narcissa’s voice called out softly.

“Are you two alright?”

“Yes,” Harry responded. “We’ll be out in a minute.”

Draco sighed. “We need to go. She’ll be fretting.”

Harry nodded, then released his hold, got to his feet and held out his hand to help his friend up. 

“You OK?”

“I will be, one day.” Draco managed a weak smile and followed Harry out into the sitting room.

Kingsley and Robards had already left, and Hermione was serving everyone tea. Draco took his seat by his mother and Harry returned to his chair.

“Draco, I had Winky make you some ginger tea,” Hermione said, handing him a steaming mug. “It should help your stomach.”

“Thank you,” Draco whispered, the surprise clear on his face.

Harry smiled at Hermione as she handed him a steaming mug of milky Earl Grey.

“So, does all this mean that you aren’t in danger any longer?” Harry asked the Malfoys.

“The Minister and Head Auror Robards believe that is true,” Lucius answered, his tone very different from the haughty man that entered his home a month ago. “However,” he continued, “if you would be so kind, I would appreciate my wife and son being able to remain here until the last of the trials are over. I will leave, if you prefer it.”

Harry could tell that it was difficult for Lucius to ask Harry for this favour and he shook his head. “There’s no rush, all of you are welcome to stay until this is finished. We still have work left to do on the house, right, Draco?” Harry grinned at him, hoping to diffuse the tension.

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Lucius offered, then stood. “If you don’t mind, I would like to rest for a while. It’s been an emotional day.”

“Of course,” Harry said with a nod. 

When his parents stood to go, Draco stayed seated and shook his head when his mother asked him if he wanted to go upstairs and rest. Harry stood and put some biscuits on a small plate and took a seat beside Draco on the couch before offering him one. Draco looked surprised but took a biscuit and gave Harry a weak smile. The four teenagers settled into relaxed conversation.

~*~

Harry could hardly believe that it was finally coming to an end. Nearly three months after the Malfoys had come to him looking for a place to hide, the trials were finally ending, today, and this nightmare would all be over.

Draco paced the length of the sitting room, muttering under his breath. His pale skin had a pink undertone which grew darker by the minute. He was visibly stressed because he and his mother had been ordered to stay in hiding ‘as a precaution’ during these last few days of the trials while Lucius was in front of the Wizengamot in his role as key witness.

“Draco,” Harry said for the fourth time, “please calm down, You’re going to make yourself ill again.”

"But, Harry, what if there is someone else who wants to kill him? What if Michaels wasn't working alone?"

“The Aurors are very good at their job, and your father’s testimony is critical to their cases. They take protecting you very seriously.” Harry stepped in front of him and held him loosely by his biceps, looking directly into his stormy grey eyes. “Please, come over here and have tea with me?”

Draco stood stiffly for a long moment, returning Harry’s direct look before he visibly crumpled and nodded. Harry led him to the sofa and poured them both tea. They chatted about various things, the book Draco was reading, the progress on the house, but eventually Draco’s tension resurfaced, and Harry decided he needed a distraction. 

“Come with me,” Harry said, holding out his hand. 

Draco stared for a moment, then nodded and took the offered hand. They went up the stairs all the way to the top floor. Harry released Draco’s hand and took up the two brooms, offering one to Draco.

“We’re going up on the roof?” Draco asked. “It won’t help, Harry. It’s too quiet.”

“Trust me. Follow me.”

The pair made their way to the rooftop garden and Draco looked at Harry, who hadn’t yet dismounted.

“Give me a minute,” Harry said and lifted up just a few feet, then waved his wand in a complex pattern to his right and then his left. Touching back down, he sleeved his wand and smiled. “You up for a race?”

“A race?” Draco asked incredulously. “Here?”

“Yes, I’ve disillusioned the space just above the rooftops here. We can race back and forth, just don’t land anywhere, but here and don’t fly too high. The spell only covers about twenty feet.”

“You’re insane,” Draco said with a laugh.

“Scared, Draco?”

“You wish, Harry. Let’s go.”

They kicked off and raced the length of the Grimmauld Place rooftops for several hours and when they finally landed and made their way back downstairs, Lucius was back, and the trials were over.

After dinner, Harry and Draco ended up side by side in their usual lounger watching the stars. Harry smiled and his stomach did a little flip when Draco’s fingers linked with his as it did so often these days. 

“Do you still love the view?” Harry asked after a moment.

“It’s breathtaking,” Draco said

Harry felt a warm breath on his cheek and looked over to find Draco looking at him rather than the stars. Up close, Harry could see the flecks of silver and pale blue in his grey eyes and he nearly forgot to breathe. “Yeah, it is,” he whispered as he lifted his free hand and ran the backs of his fingers over the soft skin of Draco’s cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Draco asked. 

Harry’s heart pounded as he nodded and a soft “yeah” came out on its own accord just a moment before their lips touched and Harry was lost. It was a tender kiss, a brush of lips and the slightest touch of tongue and it felt so right, like Harry’d found the piece he’d been missing for so long, like he’d found home.


	4. Epilogue - No More Emptiness Inside

July 31st dawned with a clear, blue sky. By noon it had turned into a warm and sunny day as though even nature was celebrating with them. After they had completed the renovations on Grimmauld Place, they had begun work on Malfoy Manor, Harry working alongside the Malfoys on the project. The five-year transformation of the manor was finally finished and today they would gather and celebrate Harry’s birthday on the Manor grounds. Harry strolled out among the house-elves preparing for the party and made his way down the path toward the front gates. He heard steps behind him and smiled, his right hand instinctively reaching for his companion. A moment later, Draco’s left hand slipped into place and they walked together to the gates, content in each other’s company. The gates had been moved further from the house during the renovations, leaving more space for an expansive front lawn and ornamental flower patches. The forebidding walled gardens were gone as well. 

When the pair reached the gates, they turned and looked back at the house. The grim grey stones had been resurfaced in warm tan stone, and the new windows shone in the sunlight. The pointed turret tops had been replaced with a flat roof and family garden. It made Harry smile, knowing it was modeled after his own little oasis that the Malfoys had fallen in love with, and meant that a small part of himself was part of this regal, ancestral home. 

Harry stood there, taking in the scene. “It’s hard to believe it’s the same house.”

“It’s not, not really,” Draco said, “thankfully. Every trace of him is gone as well as who we were before. It reflects all the changes this family has been through and I, for one, am glad of it.”

“Me too,” Harry said, “it’s been a long journey. Hard to believe it’s been five years. In some ways, it seems a long time and in others, like yesterday.”

“I’m happy to be here with you, Harry,” Draco said and squeezed Harry’s hand, his lips curving into that special smile that Harry knew was only for him.

“My home is wherever you are,” Harry said, turning to face him. He was about to say something else, but laughed instead when he heard a distinct series of pops behind them. “Sounds like more of the family’s arriving. Let’s greet them, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Draco replied, stealing a quick snog before he turned around and waved his hand to open the gates. 

A wave of red hair, chatter and laughter poured onto the lawn, and food appeared on the tables. The champagne fountain burbled happily and the sound of children playing mixed with the music provided by the band set up to one side. Soon after Pansy, Blaise, Greg and Theo all arrived with their families and the gates closed behind the last guest. The adults lounged around tables with drinks and food, the kids had balls and a bouncy house and candy floss and popcorn and all manner of sweets.

Harry had momentarily lost Draco to Arthur and their shared fascination of all things Muggle as Draco explained the machine that made the candy floss, but Harry didn’t mind. He was happy to share him on occasion. Just then, strong arms wrapped around his knees, and Harry looked down into his godson’s happy face and ruffled his now black hair. “Hey, my Ted, how are you?”

“Heya Harry. I’m good. Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Harry said, kneeling down and giving him a warm hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. You gonna go play with the others?”

Teddy nodded and took off running. 

“Happy birthday, Harry,” Andi said with a smile and a kiss on the cheek when Harry was back on his feet.

“Thanks, Andi.”

“Happy?”

“More than I can say, more than I ever thought I would be,” Harry admitted, his smile content as he looked out over his family and friends.

“No one deserves it more, sweetheart,” Andi said, then raised her hand and smiled. “I’m going to say hi to Cissy.” 

Harry stayed where he was, watching his friends and family, gathered to celebrate his 23rd birthday and he smiled. His mind drifted back over his life, the pain of his childhood, the war, the first steps of healing, found family and passionate love. Along the way, he discovered some truths about life. Life wasn’t something you knew how to do, ever. It was, well, it was a bit like a dance – weaving in and out of people and events and movements. Sometimes you led, sometimes you followed, sometimes you stumbled over your own feet, but you kept moving. You kept pace with the others, and with enough practice, you got it mostly right. The hardest thing about dancing was the most critical: you had to get on the floor and start. You could dance on your own, though it was often much less aesthetically pleasing. If you were lucky and found a good partner, it was far easier. 

‘Definitely far easier,’ he thought as he watched Draco interact with their shared families and friends. Finally, the emptiness Harry carried inside him was gone, and love had filled those empty places.

“Harry,” Draco was walking towards him and Harry couldn’t help but smile at his beloved. 

“I missed you,” Draco said as he pulled Harry into an embrace.

“I missed you too,” Harry murmured into Draco’s neck. “Dance with me?”

“Of course, anytime.”

They swayed to the soft, romantic music, and Harry drank in Draco’s scent and let it wash over him. 

Draco chuckled, nuzzling Harry’s cheek before pulling back to look into his eyes. “Our last birthdays as single Wizards. Are you excited?”

“Incredibly. There’s nothing I want more than to be married to you,” Harry said, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Me too, love,” Draco said with a smile, “me too.”

**Author's Note:**

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